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<title>You Owe Me by MToddWebster (RembrandtsWife)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25383130">You Owe Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/MToddWebster'>MToddWebster (RembrandtsWife)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Andrew Hozier-Byrne (Musician)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, M/M, POV Outsider, RPF, Semi-Public Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:27:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25383130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/MToddWebster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Get lost backstage in a big theater and you never know what you'll discover....</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Alex Ryan (Hozier)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Owe Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I ate a yogurt and a granola bar for breakfast and then finished this story which I started several days ago. Thanks to roosebolton for encouragement and eye emojis. </p>
<p>I hope I don't need to say this, but I'm gonna say it anyway: This is a work of fiction that depicts fictionalized versions of real people. I know nothing that isn't public about Hozier and Alex Ryan.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I really didn't mean for this to happen. I mean, I certainly didn’t sign on to the tour so I could peep on people. Yeah, I was excited as hell to be in the road crew of one of my favorite musicians--I would have been excited to be in anybody's road crew, but the fact that it was HOZIER made it even better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And everybody on the tour had been really really kind, from Murt and Cody up to and including the man himself. Andrew Hozier-Byrne actually came and introduced himself--like that was necessary--and smiled and shook my hand like I was someone he wanted to meet and not a lowly roadie who was barely worthy to carry his guitar case. And I'm 100% certain that's not a pose; he is really, genuinely appreciative of all the people who make his performances possible. I saw that when I was in the audience during his Wasteland, Baby! tour, when he thanked every single person by name, and I saw it up close as a roadie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I never meant to get that close. Really. It just... happened. I swear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What happened was I got lost. I can schlep and carry stuff and I'm careful and everything, but my big weakness as a roadie is that I have no sense of direction indoors. I grew up taking the bus everywhere and have no fears about navigating any city, but put me in a building with a bunch of corridors and doors where everything looks the same and I get turned around. It's like I need a ball of string and a place to tie it first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So I was in the back of this theater, prior to the show, trying to find my way back to the rest of the crew after a long-ass hike to the restroom. It was still maybe forty minutes before the show; the opening act was on and pretty soon the band would start doing their vocal warm-ups. And I heard men's voices, and one of them was definitely Hozier's, so of course I thought I was close to where I had to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I went down the hall toward the voices and turned a corner just in time to see Alex, Andrew's bassist and best bud, put his hands on Andrew's shoulders and push him against the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a second I was like, Oh no, a fight between these two? no! So I hesitated before going forward and turning back, and that's how I saw Alex get up in Andrew's space and kiss him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Um. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was kissing and there was kissing back. There was definitely kissing back, possibly with tongue. Andrew’s hands came around Alex’s hips and spread across the small of his back, like giant white starfish against Alex’s black shirt; Alex’s hands went up and cupped Andrew’s face. I heard some muffled noises and started to feel a little hot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kiss broke off. I could see Andrew give a slow blink, but I couldn’t catch what he said, his head tilting slightly as it often did when he talked to people one-on-one. Alex leaned into him and said something that made him laugh. It was always a surprise when he let out one of those big laughs, teeth shining; the sound ricocheted off the cinderblock walls and bounced up and down between floor and ceiling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tipped his head to kiss Alex again, but Alex drew away and, oh Christ, sank to his knees, slithering down Andrew’s body. Andrew’s gaze followed him down and he almost looked dismayed, like, oh no, not here, not now. But he didn’t stop Alex from going for his belt and yanking down his jeans, yanking down his boxers, and--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, yes, I didn’t have a close-up view, but I’m pretty sure Andrew Hozier-Byrne does have, to quote Aisling Bea, a gigantic mickey, as well as I could estimate from a few yards away with my hand in my own pants because… because how could I not? Two of the hottest men I’ve ever seen are getting it on, in a semi-public place where they might be seen, because apparently they just can’t not, and I have the incredible good luck to be seeing them, yes, I’m intruding on their privacy and dammit, I’m going to get my own orgasm out of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I can tell that Alex is gripping Andrew’s cock, his arm is moving so he’s stroking it, and his head is bent in so he must be sucking on it, too. Andrew is, Christ, he’s watching, his hair falling in front of his face, but his mouth is slightly open, and I can hear his breathing speeding up. Christ. His hands are splayed open against the stark white wall behind him, fingers flexing, and his hips are moving just a little, pushing forward, as if he’s trying not to but he can’t hold back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex shifts on his knees and starts bobbing his head, his hands on Andrew’s narrow hips now. Andrew moans, a throaty, heartfelt, desperate sound that brings a wave of pleasure over me--I wobble on my feet, he throws his head back, not quite hitting the wall, but shaking his gorgeous hair and exposing his throat. This is some serious cocksucking, Alex pressing closer and closer, Andrew’s chest heaving, until I hear Alex actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>choke</span>
  </em>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Andrew cries out, a noise I can’t even describe because it was the sound of my own orgasm (my free hand was jammed between my teeth). He curled one hand around the back of Alex’s neck and slapped the other, open-palmed, three times against the wall. Alex held still, only his shoulders quivering, as Andrew came in his mouth. When Andrew slumped, Alex reached into Andrew’s pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I heard Andrew give a small, shaky laugh. Alex stood up, wiped around Andrew’s cock--Andrew just let him--then folded the hanky and tucked it back into Andrew’s pocket. I thought Andrew muttered, “You bastard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex turned and walked away, sauntered away, really, with his own cock obviously bulging against his zip, and casually said, quite loud enough to be heard, “You owe me.” Andrew watched him go, and if there was anything that night I wished I hadn’t seen, it was the look of yearning on his face just then--as if he wanted nothing more than to run off with Alex and pay that debt, gig be damned. When he started to do up his clothes again, I turned and slipped away, hoping I would somehow find my way back to the stage wings without running into Alex.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I might never look either of them in the face again--or look at them together.</span>
</p>
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